Shelter from the Storm
by neverevesangel
Summary: What occured when Bill showed up at Virginia's doorstep. Spoilers for 1x12 and 2x1. Rated M for non-explicit mentions of sex. Named for and inspired by Bob Dylan's "Shelter from the Storm".


**SHELTER FROM THE STORM**

* * *

_Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved  
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved  
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm  
Come in, she said, I'll give ya  
Shelter from the storm  
_

* * *

It's funny how rain tends to bring people together. I had no intention of seeing her that night. How I ended up at her doorstep I will never know. I have no memories of driving to her place.

But it poured and in the flood, my life was swept away. It was natural to seek shelter.

Despite the late hour, she opened the door for me and then she stood there, not looking surprised at all, as if she had anticipated this. Her eyes drew me into their depth, that warmth I wished she would reserve only for me. For my composure to be shattered it only took her looking at me this way, waiting in silence.

It had happened once before.

_Close your eyes_, I'd told her and she had. But she still held onto my hand, and I'd felt her thumb on my wrist bone as she wordlessly pushed me into the maelstrom churning down below.

Those waters had changed since then. They were a wild river now, seizing me, and I was swept over the threshold. She closed the door behind me, quietly, so as not to disturb her sleeping children. I followed her upstairs.

In the stark brightness of her bathroom, I unbuttoned my shirt without thinking. There was an unspoken agreement that we made somewhere between here and the hallway, an agreement to be washed with the tides for tonight and let them carry us just this once.

Her eyes were open wide when she looked up at me, holding the understanding she had so freely been giving to me. Someone once said that to be loved is to be seen.

I fall into her then. We had not truly touched since our last participation in the study, although there had been fleeting encounters. Her hand brushing against my lab coat in the elevator, furtive glances here and there.

But never, never this. With my face buried in the crook of her neck, I could finally breathe her in, my arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer until our bodies aligned. A shudder ran through me when her hand came up rest against the nape of my neck.

It was like holding hands, mourning a child. Shelter from the storm. Until that was no longer enough.

I had to turn my head just slightly, her hair against my nose, tickling. I pressed a kiss behind her ear, then another one against the skin of her throat. Felt her pulse against my mouth and resisted the urge to count.

Later, when I was long buried deep inside her and my mind was clouded with desire, my eyes fell upon her lips. So much had been shared between us - touch to measure physical response, intimacy for the sake of science. Kissing was never a part of it. Kissing was never necessary.

I could have kissed her then. Her lips were parted as if she was waiting for me to finally bow down, give myself to her fully. To taste her, finally. I could see the longing in her darkened eyes.

And yet, here was the line I could not cross.

Kissing was never necessary.

Kissing her now… it would prove that this was different.

It would prove how powerful her hold on me had grown. She could end my life in a heartbeat.

Kissing was never part of it.

A line, not to be crossed.

I hid my face against her shoulder to escape her searching eyes. Licking, biting down her neck, tasting salt. It had to be enough.

When it was all over, I took her pulse after all. Tried to, at least. The lightness with which she laughed at me was mesmerizing, tugging at my heart in a way I haven't felt in a long time.

Ethan Haart of all people tore that moment away from me. My heart sank when the phone rang and she said it was him. I knew they'd had sex. I had a suspicion that he was responsible for the bruise she'd sported on her cheekbone so many months ago.

_Ethan asked me to marry him_, she told me, not moving to pick up the phone at all. Instead she stared at me with an expression I could not decipher.

_And? What did you say?_

I asked even though I was not sure whether I wanted to hear her reply. It would be good for her, I thought. Marry a promising, young doctor. Good for her children, too.

_Nothing. Yet._

Not for the first time that night, I felt the urge to reach for her and draw her in. To kiss her, mark her, beg her to forget about Ethan. To be mine and mine alone. But what right did I have to her? Married as I was, with a pregnant wife. So, I swallowed it all down and turned away, unable to meet her eyes.

I lacked the resolve to look away for long and she stared straight back at me with the phone against her ear. Only with my eyes I could attempt to convey what I feel. What I was asking of her.

_Things have changed_, she said to Ethan.

To call it hope would have been a stretch but those three words breathed life into me with the fragile promise of a possible future - a future that barely extended beyond the few hours I would spend in her bed, but a future nonetheless.

_It's where I belong_, she said firmly, as if she was aware of my thoughts. Her words reached for a darker part of me, a possessiveness that forcefully coiled in my stomach. I fought it back into its cage.

And yet - when she hung up and slowly returned to me, I could not take my eyes off her. Staring up at her although she refused to meet my gaze. She crawled back under the covers, naked as she was, and her back turned to me. Whatever common sense was left in me earlier to stop myself from kissing her is melted away then as I rolled over and draped one arm across her, hand splayed against her collarbone. She held onto it gratefully.

Her hand relaxed and slipped away soon after when she finally fell asleep. I remained for a while longer, pressed against her spine, gathering my strength. Pulled away from her eventually and got dressed, left the house like a shadow, a spectre in the night.

It was still raining outside.


End file.
